Page 72 of Marcel

She leaned her headagainst his shoulder as he supported her. The box had been loweredinto the ground, and the workmen had covered it with dirt. Severalmourners had already left, and the rest were leaving to go to themanor where the repast was being held.

Holding her firmlyaround the waist, Marcel checked on her frequently. “Ready toleave?”

“In a minute.She wanted to be buried next to Dad.”

“Which isnatural.” Marcel nodded to several business associates who cameforward to express their condolences. “Tired?”

“Just a littledrained. I think I am all cried out.”

“As long as youare not bottling everything inside.”

Turning her head, shegave him a wry glance. “As if you would allow that.”

“Precisely.It’s not good for the young one.” His hand driftedpossessively to her flat stomach. “We have our baby to thinkabout.”

She nodded, placingher hand over his. “I love you, darling.”

His heart went into aslow dive. “That’s convenient because I love you too.”

“It’snice having you as a husband.”

“Is thatright?” Tucking his hand under her chin, he kissed her slowly.

*****

He made the roundswith her, keeping a firm hand on her arm as they accepted condolencesfrom the mourners. She had changed out of her black heels and waswearing flats at his insistence.

She had also removedthe jaunty little hat with the veil and the chic black jacket thatmatched her pencil-thin skirt. Her only concession to color was herpale lilac blouse, which made her look delicate and somewhatvulnerable.

He had the insaneneed to shield her from all the hurt and pain of her past. Heunderstood her now. She had spent her life living in a happy home,and the rug had been yanked out from under her.

She had lost bothparents when her dad died and still managed to be one of the topstudents at Harvard Law while facing enormous obstacles.

He was so proud ofher that his heart exploded inside his chest. He loved her so muchthat he found it difficult to breathe, and he wanted to marry heragain. When he said the words this time, they would come from hisheart.

She stopped suddenly,and he turned his head to look at her.

“What’swrong?”

“Do you think Icould go and lie down for a bit?”

“What is it?”

“My stomach isfeeling queasy. I hate to leave-”

“Let me tellMother. I will be right back.”

*****

“You arefeeding me.”

“I am feedingyou.” He lifted the spoon to her mouth. “Open.”

She did, swallowingthe delicious liquid thick with vegetables. “How is yourstomach?”

“Better. I canfeed myself.”

“I love doingit.”

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